Diary of a MILF in Progress

This is an accurate representation of my workday

A lesson in productivity

It's 11:00, and the most important things I've accomplished this morning were (a) finding two options for happy hour tonight, since I want something that is relatively close but I am not likely to run into a lot of co-workers, and has a decent variety of good beer and (b) an in-depth discussion with our distribution clerk about whether "Jane" is a 70's song or an 80's song.  (Although the compilation album identifies the song as being recorded by Starship, the band did not become Starship until about 1984.  Also, the song is on a 70's compilation, but Big Dog remembers it being in high rotation during a formative period in his life which took place in the early 80's.)

OK, I did do some actual work related things (drafting some documents for review by the upper managers at their meeting on Tuesday, review of some marketing documents to ensure accurate representation of the composition of my Board).  But those things aren't as much fun to contemplate as microbrews and my iPod.

A day of ups and downs

Yesterday, while I was fighting with the shredder (we're moving to the new buiding soon, and I am purging much of the extraneous paper from my cubicle, most of which contains semi-confidential information), Natalie said, not in a lascivious way, but a possibly complimentary way anyway,
"You look like you're hot."

Then she kind of rolled her eyes and said, "I don't mean 'hot' like Hot, but 'hot' like..." and then seemed like she was frustrated with herself.  "So, are you saying I look good, or that I look as though I'm about to break a sweat?" I laughed.  Being that is was already 85 degrees at 10:00 a.m., but also that I was wearing a camisole with no bra and a sheer blouse, it could go either way, you know?

She laughed, too, saying, "Like at hottie.  That's the hot I meant  to say."

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I had my annual review yesterday afternoon.  My boss actually emailed it to me prior to our meeting, and we had discussed the bulk of it, so all that was left was to see the actual wording of the comments, the numerical rating, and confirmation of the exact amount of my raise and bonus.

The rating was what I expected, I supposed, and the raise is decent.  The comments, however, are seeming more and more condescending as I think about more.  One in particular is sticking in my craw.  The one about "interacting appropriately...given [my] support function."  So, I guess I should be fading into the background and not making eye contact with upper management or other high level attendees during meals and social functions involved with my meetings.

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Work is wicked busy lately.  It's almost time for school to start (for everyone except me, now that the Younger Son is beginning preschool, the Elder Son is in first grade, the Daughter is in fourth, and the Husband has added a first period upperclassmen course to his schedule), so life at home isn't exactly leisurly.  I've gained and lost the same three pounds since May.  I quit smoking after my last lapse and don't want to fall off the wagon again.  Booze and comfort eating will only sabotage my diet.  I think my only stress relief is going to have to be getting laid.  If the Husband doesn't get his act together and treat me a bit nicer in the next month, Casey and I are going to have to pick up where we left off last year once we get to the Fall Conference.

We hate to see them go, but we love to watch them leave

I bumped into Natalie in the hall yesterday, and she passed off a distracted greeting.

"What are you grinning about?" I asked her, suspiciously.

"Oh," she answered, blushing slightly, "I just saw Dan Rydell in the hall."

"Got it," I said. "He is nice to look at, isn't he?" She nodded in agreement.

So this morning, when I saw that the Marketing department was pretty full staffed, I gave her an update.

"If you need to get any photocopying done today," I told her, "the scenery is good at the copier over by the corner offices."

"Mr. Rydell?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

"And Mr. McCall. Probably Isaac, too, but I haven't seen him yet."

"Hmmm, yes, I do have some things I need to get copied today," Natalie trailed off.

Rememberence of things current

I regret that I've been a bit inattentive lately, but I've been a bit overwhelmed by...

I'm sorry, what was I saying?

Oh, right. Forgetful, distracted and wicked busy. That's what I was talking about. OK, then.

I had a two-day meeting about two weeks ago, which went well but resulted in many, many follow up items. In addition, I am frantically in the midst of planning a three-day meeting with the same group in August, which is not part of the normally scheduled cadre of meetings with this group. Normally, we meet quarterly in person, and a bunch of conference calls as needed in between. Two of the face-to-face meetings are at my office, and two are in conjunction with other conferences (the Fall one during which I get myself overly involved with co-workers, and the Spring one, at which I seem to be able to behave myself). But this August retreat is necessary, and planning for it has been somewhat fluid because of upper management and committee member waffling about the scope and timing of the discussions. Oh, and did I mention that two of my bosses (the one who writes my review and the one who writes hers, one of whom is sane and one of whom is...not so much) have been only sporadically in the office? Yeah, that factors in as well, since much of what I am trying to get accomplished requires their input. Fun stuff.

Mad planning skillz have been necessary in my home life, too. The Daughter has a birthday a few days after my meeting. Do you think The Husband, who is off for the summer as opposed to working fulltime and then some, gave any thought to planning for it? If you said "not a bit, except for getting pissy about the fact that no plans were in place," you get 10 points! Oh, and July 4th- we had plans then, too.
And The Husband's birthday was last week. And although he is well into adulthood, he still expects the world to grind to a halt for him. So calling me at work multiple times during the day to ask where we were going for dinner, even though I asked him for input where he wants to go and he did not give me any. We figured it out, but it took another evening out of my own time.

I have forgotten to take my anti-depressents a number of times recently. When my depression and anxiety kick in, I get forgetful, among other things. Which sort of makes me forget to take medication. oops.

I was very cranky today. And shaky. And suffering from a headache. Which made me realize that it was almost 10:00 a.m. and I had not yet had my breakfast. oops.

There was something else I was going to post about. But I've forgotten what it is.

What'cha waiting on, McCall?

An email exchange from earlier this week:

To: A bunch of people
From: Dana
re: May 18

Natalie and I are going out to El Perro Fumando this Friday around 5, should anyone care to join us. (Some of you already indicated that you care to join us, but insisted on a reminder, since apparently I'm everyone's secretary these days...) Anyway, join us if you can, and if you can't, we reserve the right to talk about you behind your back ;-)

To: Dana
From: Casey
re: Re: May 18

Talking about me behind my back sounds ok but I think it's better if you talk about me while I'm standing right in front of you! ;)

To: Casey
From: Dana
re: Re:Re: May 18

Come stand right in from of me and I'll talk about you as much as you'd like me to.

(He still hasn't taken me up on that, but the day is only halfway over. I don't really expect him to show, although it would brighten my day.)

Love means never having to say "I don't care"

I got a message from our head meeting planner, letting me know that the electronic registration for the September conference will be active soon, and requesting that I begin soliciting responses from my group as soon as possible.

While we fixed dinner together last night (I started the grilling, since The Husband was busy keeping the yard from becoming a jungle, but he took over because the grill is his domain), I approached the subject of his attendance.

"So, what have you decided about coming to Florida for my conference in September?" I asked. "I know you would have to miss the football game on that Sunday, so what's the final verdict?"

"I think I'll have to miss the football game regardless," he answered. "My parents would have been watching the kids if I go out of town, but they will be going to the game."

We reviewed the logistical points about the trip itself, the timing and the impact on his work and whether he would have anyone to golf with while I was in meetings. It's doable, but not ideal, and finally he put the ball in my court.

"It comes down to your decision," he conceded. "If you want me to go, I'll go. If you really don't care, I may as well stay home."

The truth is, I don't care. I'd rather save our travelling for a time when neither of us is working in excess of 12 hours a day. But, based on fifteen years with a man, you figure out what is and is not appropriate to say.

"It's not that have any objection to you going," I replied. "It's just that I would hardly have a chance to spend any time with you while you are there. When we go on a trip together, it's nice to actually be together, not just staying in the same hotel."

And apparently, that was just the right thing to say.

Crashing back down to earth

Two weeks ago, I was at a beautiful Southwest resort, mingling among leaders in my industry, enjoying cocktails and fine meals. A member of the staff was on hand to refresh the beverages and cheese tray in the conference room. Each evening at 5:00, microbrews and wine were available in the lobby for sampling. I slept on soft down pillows, awkakened by a call from the front desk reading me my horoscope.

Today, I am arbitrating yet another fight about whether to watch Happy Feet or Spongebob. My instant coffee has gotten cold as I try to juggle the coincidental activities of signing for the grocery delivery, putting the dog into the backyard, ushering The Younger Son onto the potty, and changing the laundry.

Hi pot, I'm kettle

The day before I left for my meeting, I stopped into Natalie's office to touch base. Shel was there, as was a co-worker from another department. I wanted to see both Natalie and Shel so I could verify whether either of them needed anything from me before I left for five days, so I took advantage of both of them being present. But, as is altogether too common of an experience, I came into a conversation mid-cycle and got blindsided.

As she saw me approach, Shel raised her voice so I could hear her say, "Dana will freak when she hears that!" It was a joke, of course, said because I was approaching, not because the conversation merited.

Somehow, the subject had turned to the boys. Shel likes the boys, Dan in particular. Maybe not the way I like Casey, but to the casual observer, her behavior toward the gang and mine are pretty much the same.

"You know, we were talking at lunch about how Dana has a special thing for somebody," Shel teased.

"What's that supposed to mean?" our co-worker inquried.

"Everyone in the marketing department has noticed that Dana pays more attention to Casey than anyone else, that she treats him differently!" Shel explained, turning to me. "Isaac even said that you don't flirt with anybody else."

"No," I countered, "Isaac said I didn't flirt with anyone at all. Which made both Casey and Dan wonder who he's has been observing all this time."

"Well, we've all seen it. Nobody's upset by it," Shel continued, seeing my confused look, "but we all know that you act totally different with him, right Natalie?"

"Hmmm, no, I haven't seen Dana act any differently toward Casey than she does toward anyone else." Natalie replied.

Shel backpedaled. Madly. But the damage was done. And the conversation turned...slightly tense.

"How come it's OK for you to flirt with Dan, but I can't flirt with Casey?" I asked, not in an accusing manner, just an inquiring one.

"I don't flirt with Dan!" she protested. "We talk about his girlfriend, and the baby and and the restaurant near his house and stuff! We don't flirt!"

"I talk to Casey about my husband, and his wife, and work stuff, and sports. What's the difference?" I asked innocently.

Shel didn't have an answer. Natalie had one later, though. The difference is clear. Shel and I both flirt with the boys, and she even does so more than I do (dropping mentions of when she's going to lunch with "the boys" and such). The difference is, only one of us rock the Hot Wife t-shirt and it's not the one who raised the accusation in the first place.

Torture...

Casey was in today. When I stopped into the office, he and Dan were just regrouping from their earlier meetings with one of our biggest clients(and Casey was, as always, eating).

Casey looked good. Today called for a crisp, white dress shirt and tie. Between the accentuated broad shoulders, and the twinkle in his eyes when I teased him about how he could be bribed with homemade cookies, it was hard to concentrate.

Sweet mother of Jesus, that man is hard to resist sometimes.